Imperative

What I want right now is for the world
to stop shining so serenely.

It refuses. It does and takes its duties
and pleasures regardless of me.

I go on cursing it, demanding
that it changes, asking in despair

for it to shift to another mode.
None of my requests seem to be heard.

Instead, it doubles down as
winter closes in and the sky blackens

earlier each day. It promises Christmas,
Thanksgiving, joy of first snowfall, crunch

underfoot. I don’t much care
but I respect it, I guess.

At least it will be over someday, I tell myself.
I might just make it to spring and then it will be over.

Until then though I will sit alone in the apartment
and wish for it to come quickly — even though

unlike other years, I’ve gotten old and I fear this one.
Fear it like it has never been by here before.

Close the curtains, sit back down, pet the cat,
close my eyes, wait for morning to turn onward

into night as it always does so calmly,
with or without me shaking my fists.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
onward,
T